


Bittersweet

by SoftBoyApollo



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, I am also wiping T'Pring from existence, I am the author so I can do as I please, Light Angst, M/M, Original Character(s), Starbase 9, Takes place early in Jim and Spock's Starfleet careers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2019-10-04 09:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftBoyApollo/pseuds/SoftBoyApollo
Summary: Jim gets promoted to a Constitution-class starship, but needs to wait on Starbase 9 for his new assignment to arrive. On Starbase 9 he meets a Vulcan barista/Starfleet officer named Spock, who claims to be put into this position, because of his lack of people skills. However, while Jim tries to help him with his small talk, the real reason why Spock is stationed on Starbase 9 lurks around the corner.





	1. Don't Pretend You Like Bitter Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redshirt_graveyard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redshirt_graveyard/gifts).



> This was supposed to be one chapter, but then I decided I could better just put this into chapters and make it longer. This is a very late Christmas present for my science daughter, who is not really my daughter, but is now because I am old. I am bad at writing in character, so everyone just deal with all the inaccuracy. Also, I am making this up as I go.

Jim had not left the _USS Republic_ on good terms. Sure, he was being transferred to a _Constitution_ -class ship, which was a big step for an ensign with little experience, but to get there he lost his friend Ben. It was a duty or friendship choice and as much as the blond-haired male valued friendship, his duty as a Starfleet officer came first. The comforting smell of caffeine and old books could not even bring any relief to the way Jim felt. The coffee shop on _Starbase 9_ was a classic one, real beans, real books as they used to read and a real barista. It was going to be a couple of weeks until the _USS Farragut_ would dock and until then, Jim had a little vacation. The standardised shoe wear got cleaned the moment they made contact with the sonic doormat inside. The ensign went straight for the counter, glad there were only a handful of people around; it added to the ambiance. There was a Vulcan behind the counter, placing the Starfleet thermos cups in the display cupboard. Unsurprisingly he was very precise about their alignment and position. It looked impeccable. Jim leaned on the counter, squinting up at the menu. Of course they needed to have more than just regular Terran coffee. There was also an assortment of Vulcan, Andorian and what not hot beverages. “May I be of your assistance?”

 

Jim finally looked away from the menu and straight forward at the Vulcan from before. His face was characteristically expressionless. Were he human, he would probably have gotten a speech from his manager. “Uh yeah uh”, Jim said as he tried to get his head around things. He was daydreaming again and needed something to keep him from falling asleep any second now. Being an engineer on a ship that was close to decommissioning had given him so little time to sleep that he now felt himself close to addicted to caffeine. “I need something to keep me awake. Just your strongest coffee, please, or whatever strong alien thing you got.” Jim waved with his hand at the menu. He could almost feel those dark, piercing eyes on him. It took a full minute, before the Vulcan moved a muscle. He did not say anything as he was working on the order, just handed Jim a thermos cup. “Thanks”, Jim muttered as he took it.

 

“This is a Klingon beverage called Raktajino. I do not advise drinking it too much. An excessive amount of caffeine can cause irregular heartbeat, seizures, dizziness, diarrhoea, fever, irr…” Jim laughed and held his hand up, hoping the other would stop, but he did not until he finished the end of his list. “Do you often consume caffeinated beverages? Repeated expose increases the body’s sensitivity to the symptoms of caffeine overdose. Why are you laughing? Do health risks amuse you?” The ensign could almost swear the other was making an attempt at small talk, but the confusion in the other’s voice, combined with the lack of expression on his face just made things more funny.

 

“Hold up, big guy. Are you a barista or did you escape Starfleet medical?” Jim joked, taking a sip of his beverage. It was supposed to look cool, but he did not expect the alien taste and almost choked on how much more bitter it was than the Terran coffee he was used to. Taking a napkin from the counter, he wiped the little fluid that had escaped his lips and was now resting on the corner of them.

 

“As for now, I am a barista. My superior officer suggested a short leave for me to work on what he referred to as ‘people skills’. I figured being a barista on my leave would increase the opportunities to work on what humans call ‘small talk’, ensign.” The way he referred to Jim’s rank made it clear that he outranked him. Still, this situation was weird and Jim needed normal, Terran coffee to deal with it. At least he knew now that the pretty barista was trying to make some small talk. Well, since Jim had no one here, he might as well help out the Vulcan with his people skills and small talk. Without a word, the dark-haired male took the cup with the left-over Raktajino. Jim did not protest. It tasted horrible and he never wanted to drink it again.

 

“A word of advice”, the ensign started as he watched the other make him something new, “do not judge people’s caffeine intake nor warn them of the dangers of it.” Jim really hoped the other man was making him something drinkable. “Try something like… the weather is nice today, isn’t it?” He flashed his charming smile as a new cup was placed in front of him.

 

“We are on a _Starbase_. There is no weather”, the Vulcan replied as he put the cup down. Jim nodded, surprise on his face. He muttered a small agreement, before putting the cup to his lips. He mentally buckled up, before taking a sip. He was, once again, surprised at the taste, but this time it was nice. It tasted like bitter chocolate, but with a sweet after taste. It was really good. If the stoic alien behind the counter could make this for him every day, he would marry him, figuratively of course.

 

“This is good, what’s in it?” Jim took another sip, careful not to burn himself by drinking too much in one go. As the other listed the ingredients, Jim was sure of one thing: he could not make this himself. “That’s a whole list, guess I will have to come back while I am here for more. When I do, I hope you are better at small talk.” Without thinking about it, the young Starfleet officer winked at the barista, glancing at the name plate, before he turned to leave. “Until then, Mr Spock.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jim had found himself back later that day, but unfortunately his newfound friend was not there anymore and he did not have the name of the beverage Spock had made him. For some reason, he found himself wandering around in the hope of spotting the Vulcan. In a big _Starbase_ it was not surprising that he did not walk into him in one of the public areas. There were no people needed in engineering or at least Jim was not needed. He had tried, but people did not take him all too seriously, given how new he was in the field. This reduced him to spending most of his time in his room, reading until the next day. Jim woke up early to go to the coffee shop around the same time as he had done the previous day. He let out a content sigh when he saw a familiar face through the window. He did not realise he was supporting a happy smile as he once again entered the coffee shop. “Hello, Mr Spock”, the brown-eyed male mused as he entered the quiet shop, leaning on the counter like he had done the previous day. “How is the small talk coming along?”

 

The Starfleet officer with the bowl cut that put all human bowl cuts in history to shame, almost dropped a thermos cup at the intrusion. His facial expression did not change as he caught it mid-air and continued drying it off. “As I was processing your kindly provided tips, it occurred to me that I did not catch your name, ensign”, he replied, but this time there was no hint of irritability in his voice. Jim almost offered a hand, but then the little bit of Vulcan culture he remembered came up and he quickly retracted it, before giving the other his full name, feeling like Spock was the kind of guy that would not be satisfied with merely ‘Jim’.

 

“But you can just call me Jim. Say, that drink you made yesterday, what is it called?” Before the younger man had even finished the question, said beverage was put in front of him, steaming with the inviting promise of something bittersweet. Jim smelled it, before taking a content sip. It was just as delicious as yesterday and he was almost certain that the recipe was exactly the same.

 

“It is my own blend. Since you mentioned needing caffeine, but showed signs of having the tendency to overconsume, I made an approximation of the minimal dosage that would be effective on a human male of your heritage and size. Your reaction to the Raktajino made it clear that you have a high density of _TAS2R_ receptors. Regardless you seem to consume bitter beverages instead of taking caffeine capsules. Taking all that into account I made you a beverage with sufficient caffeine and a bittersweet flavour to mimic the taste of coffee without overstimulating your _TAS2R_ receptors.”

 

The words came too fast, flew past Jim’s ears, but what he could filter out of it was kind of… flattering? “So… you made this drink specially for me?” He ended up asking, not sure if he was correct or not. It sounded like the other made him a medical prescription instead of coffee, but that may just have been the tiredness of a Starfleet officer still lingering inside Jim. The simple nod and brief confirmation was all Jim needed though. Was this a romantic thing? It sounded like something the ensign had read in the romance novels last night. Why else would the other make him a custom drink? Never before had Jim any interest in men, but this was simply too much for him to ignore. Heteronormativity had died out decades ago and sexuality was no longer an issue anywhere. The only obstacle Jim could possibly name was how Vulcans had the tendency to look down on emotional humans, of which he surely was one by Vulcan standards. However, Spock did not look at him with any judgement. ‘Whatever’, the ensign’s brain called out and a flirty smile appeared on the blond human’s face. “Why mister Spock, that is a big gesture. Perhaps I can repay you with more _**private**_ lessons on small talk?”

 

Spock seemed to consider the suggestive invitation for a date. He blinked, face as blank as ever, before giving a small nod. “Repaying me would not be necessary. However, your assistance is very much welcomed. I am, however, occupied until 19:00 today.”

 

Jim quit leaning on the counter and took another sip of his special drink. “Great, small talk is very common over dinner. Meet me at the food plaza when you are done.” Another wink and the cocky ensign sauntered out like a jock who just scored a date with the most popular cheerleader.  With a thermos cup in hand, he walked right out and continued walking until he realised he was going absolutely nowhere. He hoped he at least looked cool when he walked out, like a man who had more to do than just hang around the coffee shop and have small talk with the charming barista. The truth was, he really had nothing better to do. However, he could do with changing into something other than his Starfleet uniform. Ever since he graduated from the academy, he had hardly worn anything else. Jim was not sure if he still had a preference in clothes anymore.

 

After changing into something simple, yet elegant, Jim had enough time left to pick between restaurants at the plaza. While Vulcan culture was part of the Starfleet Academy curriculum, it was more focused on how not to start a war and not on how to pick a good restaurant for a date with a Vulcan. At least finger food and the steakhouse were out of the question. As Jim was squinting at another menu on his small PADD, he was no longer looking at the other guests and inhabitants of _Starbase 9_. As one would expect, he walked face first into someone else. The brown-eyed human let out a soft ‘oof’ as he bumped into the hard body and dropped his PADD in the progress. He looked up, hoping he did not just walk right into an admiral or something. He met eyes with a tall and muscular Andorian. The blue skin, white hair and antennae made it impossible to miss, but never before had Jim seen an Andorian with such built. Could they even get this buff? Wouldn’t they get exhausted too soon to train to that extend? “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going”, the Starfleet officer apologised, eyes fixated on the brooding figure. She smiled, friendly, and bent down, looking at his PADD as she picked it up.

 

“If you are looking for a place to eat, I recommend the steakhouse. It is really good”, she said with a voice that did not sound quite right, but Jim could not lay his finger on the oddity of it. He took his PADD back from the big, Andorian woman.

 

“Won’t do, my date is Vulcan, so probably a vegetarian”, Jim replied, letting out an awkward chuckle. The woman was obviously older than him, but she was not wearing a uniform. Neither was he, so it was unclear whether he had walked right into an Andorian ambassador or admiral, who could kick his ass and ruin his career at the same time. He was just happy she did not seem to be the temperamental type. If she were, he would probably not have all his bones still in tact by now.

 

“Oh really? In that case, there is a small corridor next to the Tellarite bar. There is a Vulcan restaurant there, exclusively for Vulcans, but I can pull some strings for you.” She smirked and got her own PADD from a small pouch hanging from her utility belt. She did not even wait for Jim’s answer, just started messaging whoever she was messaging. The blond ensign tried to stop her, but she merely giggled and turned away from him. “Don’t worry about it. I do everything for a good love story. I have to go now, but if you run into me again, I want all the juice. What’s your name?”

 

‘What an odd one’, Jim thought as he smiled and nodded his head. “I can live with that. I am Jim Kirk. Thank you so much, miss…?” She offered her hand after finishing up. Jim felt so small when he took it. As her fingers circled over his hand, blue skin completely covered it. She shook his hand with such enthusiasm, that the Starfleet officer feared losing his hand for a moment.

 

“Just call me Flora”, she beamed and Jim had a hard time not frowning. That was hardly an Andorian name, but humans nowadays had the tendency to give their human children alien names, so why could Andorians not do the exact same? Before Jim could make a comment on the name or anything, she was running off. “Bye, Jim! See you around!” He yelled another ‘thank you’ after her, but he doubted she heard him. A little stupefied, the young Starfleet officer was left in the middle of the plaza. It was way too early for his date to begin. He just hoped his name stayed on the guest list until tonight. 


	2. The Most Logical Solution to the Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a bit short and boring, but I am building up to that angst™, ok?

Jim wondered how fast Spock had walked, when the man arrived at 19:06 exactly. Where was he until 19:00, dressed in those black robes the Vulcan wore still? Jim was sure they were traditional Vulcan attire. Otherwise, he could not imagine Spock wearing something so impractical, without it being a Starfleet dress uniform. Something that dragged over the floor like that was very likely to get stepped on and it was already clear that Spock was the type of man to keep things practical rather than flashy. However, the gorgeous eyeshadow made Jim doubt that at times. The young ensign did not notice it, but he was smiling like a child in a candy store when he saw his date, who looked impeccable, like he had not rushed at all. He came to a calculated stop right in front of the blond human and greeted him like he had done before in the coffee shop, nothing special and no physical contact at all. Jim swallowed the lump in his throat and greeted him back with a flirty smile. “You look nice. Shall we?”

 

The complement seemed to be needed to processed. For a man who could remember a coffee recipe in a second and recite it at lightning speed, he was awfully slow when it came to flirtatious advances. “Thank you. I assume you have chosen our destination.” It was not a question, but a statement. Still, Jim treated it like a question and confirmed it, before leading the way. He was suspicious about the hidden restaurant, but it was true. What an embarrassment it would have been, if he had accidentally taken them to a pub for the more shady inhabitants and visitors of _Starbase 9_.

 

Hidden from sight was a beautiful little place with a female with a PADD at the door, above which were stunning, silver, Vulcan words. Jim had no idea what it said or how to even start to try and read it, but it was probably the name of the restaurant or something practical, such as ‘restaurant’. The woman with the slanted eyebrows, pointed ears and a serious look on her gracious face looked at the two of them with what Jim swore to be disgust, but then again, it was also quite expressionless and he could have easily imagined it. She said something in Vulcan and Spock replied in the same monotone voice. Jim could fish out Spock’s name, so he assumed she asked for his name. Jim wanted to interfere to tell the reservation was on his name, but she already stepped aside and let them in. ‘Please don’t tell me I have taken some infamous Starfleet officer on a date’, the human mentally prayed as they were led by someone else to a table in the corner. Simulated candles gave the place a nice ambiance. Warm light reflected on traditional fabrics and art decorating the place. If the human asked about the use of the decoration, he would probably have gotten a stone cold, logical answer and a gaze filled with judgement. Traditional Vulcan music played softly through the big space and the chairs were incredibly soft. The forever-tired young adult could almost sleep in them.

 

Spock was quiet as they scrolled through the menu, and if that was not enough to make Jim nervous, he did not have any idea what the majority of the menu was. It could be translated from Vulcan, but names remained names and were now just readable, not understandable. Jim knew a little Vulcan from the academy. In case universal translators failed or got disabled or confiscated, it was important Starfleet officers could still communicate a little. Unfortunately, that meant that his Vulcan knowledge included not a single dish name. As if Spock had sensed Jim’s panic, he spoke up for the first time since entering the restaurant. “What human food do you like to consume, Jim? I can recommend you a similar dish.” The blond man was relieved at the offer, but as soon as Spock had asked for his favourite food, all foods he liked flew out of his mind.

 

It was ironic how soon one could forget something easy as soon as the information was requested. ‘Come on Jim, he did not even ask for your favourite, just something you like, but make it vegetarian.’ Jim felt like he had to answer quickly, so with a completely straight face, he named the first vegetarian thing that came to mind. “I like salads”, he squeaked out, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. He hated salads. He should have said pasta or something, but no, his brain went right for the most dishonest answer possible. “What do you like to eat?” Before he could overthink his blunder, the ensign tried to divert the conversation away from himself.

 

The dark-haired male seemed to consider the question, before selecting two dishes, fingers sliding smoothly over the screen. Apparently having a starter and a main dish and a dessert was a human thing. “It will be easier to let you have a taste of my dish. The experience is more important than the name or ingredients.” After those words, it remained quiet for way too long. The awkward silence filled the space between and around them like an ominous aura. Even as a can of water and two sparkling clean glasses were placed on their table, the silence hugged them like a distant, but overly touchy relative one had not seen in ages.

 

“Spock, I think you missed the perfect opportunity on small talk”, Jim muttered after the silence dragged on way beyond his comfort zone. “Let’s try again, uh… What is your favourite colour? Mine is yellow. It is a very happy and bold colour; that’s why I like it so much.” The honey-eyed male flashed a smile, hoping it would make things easy between them. It did not surprise him that he received no smile in return. Spock had not smiled at him once, but Jim did not think it was necessary he did. The barista showed his emotions and kindness through other means, like making coffee just the way Jim liked it, without Jim actually telling him what he liked.

 

“I think it is rather…” The sentence was suddenly cut off. Spock seemed to swallow down the words, clearly realising whatever he was about to say would kill the conversation again. The human across from him was proud already. “I never considered having a preference for a particular pigment.” The Vulcan stopped speaking for a moment, but Jim could see he was thinking. There was a small shift in facial muscles when the alien was mentally formulating a calculated answer. “However, if I had to make a selection, I would prefer brown. It reminds me of an old friend.”

 

Jim nodded, a gentle smile on his face. He wanted to ask further into the matter, but did not get to it as a waitress stopped at their table with two plates. It took every ounce of self-restraint to not grimace at the sight of the big bowl full of vegetables. Why did he have to say ‘salads’? Like a proper gentleman, he thanked the woman for the meal. She received Jim’s gratefulness with a small nod that seemed as much friendly as it seemed dismissive. “Well, enjoy your meal, mister Spock”, the man full of regrets muttered, trying hard to sound cheerful. The restaurant was too quiet to his taste, which made him automatically lower the volume of his voice. Also, when he had spoken up earlier, he could swear he had gotten some annoyed glares from the costumers around them. Before Jim could take a bite of his salad-like dish, a spoon hovered in front of his face, almost poking him on the nose. He looked up to see Spock look at him with that same neutral face, but he could swear the alien had a greenish hue spread over his cheeks. At first the human was confused, but then he remembered he was to have a taste of Spock’s favourite dish. With a bashful look, the ensign leaned forward and took the steamy food offered to him. It was just the right temperature, the texture soft, a little spongey. The flavour changed in his mouth from a bit salty to somewhat sweet the longer it stayed on his tongue. “Wow, that tastes amazing!” Jim called out without thinking after he swallowed the delicious food. He could once again feel the eyes glaring him down and sagged a little in his seat, hiding his face behind his hand. “Oops”, he whispered to himself.

 

“Jim.” Jim looked up to see Spock look at him without any annoyance, which was a great relief. Somewhere in those dark eyes swam comfort, ready for Jim to take if he wanted to. “Please do not feel ashamed. You are merely human and your enthusiasm can be changed as little as the integration of The Teachings of Surak.” Jim was not exactly sure what Spock was saying, be he understood Spock did not care if he was being his loud self, not even here, among his people. Jim smiled thankfully and stabbed the vegetables in his bowl, bringing the fork to his lips with hidden disgust.

 

* * *

 

 

Vulcan salads turned out to be worse than the Earth version, but Jim felt like he managed to hide it behind several attempts at small talk. The vegetables were mushy and fairly bland with a spicy aftertaste. Over the course of the evening, the empty silences lasted shorter and shorter, and became less frequent. By the time most of the costumers were gone, Jim was leaning with his head on his hand while sipping on some sweet Vulcan beverage that served as dessert. It was nice, but not as nice as Spock’s blend. Little did the ensign know he was staring as his companion like a lovestruck teenager. “Really? You did that?” The now relaxed human laughed, receiving once again Spock’s new catch phrase.

 

“Of course, it was the most logical solution…”

 

“To the situation. Yeah, I get it. You know, for a man who claims to have no emotions, you have quite an attitude, Mr Spock”, the human giggled. He brought the glass to his lips, only to realise he had finished the drink. Looking around, he realised that another one would make them definitely overstay. However, Jim did not want to leave. This evening was too perfect, too much fun with too many butterflies swarming his tummy. A hand raised to force the blond hair out of his face.

 

Like Spock had read his mind, he stood up and said the only acceptable words. “This hour is the ideal time for a stroll in the gardens. Without the artificial daylight, it is possible to see the stars clearly. Also, few people will be there at this hour.” He did not verbally ask if Jim wanted to go, but the human understood the implication. He, too, stood up.

 

“Well then it would be foolish, if we do not take advantage of the situation. It is, after all, the most logical solution to the situation.” Spock did not smile or laugh, but Jim had gotten quite good at reading that stoic expression. Right now, there was amusement hidden beneath the surface. Jim almost reached for the other male’s hand, but stopped himself just in time. It seemed so natural to hold the other’s hand after a successful dinner, but Jim had to remind himself that his current romantic interest was not human. So, a peaceful and physically distant stroll to the gardens on the _Starbase_ ensued. However, their souls were not distant at all. Spock even managed to start off the small talk. By the time their footwear hit the synthesised dirt of the gardens, the conversation had gone from superficial small talk to deep conversations. Spock had some interesting observations and opinions on top of his vast knowledge. They had entangled themselves into an intellectual debate, just for the sake of giving each other sassy comebacks. Below the dim light of the distant stars and between the pleasant smell of sweet flowers from all over the galaxy, it seemed they were alone. However, Jim’s instinct told him differently.

 

“You seem to be apprehensive, Jim. What is causing your disquietude?” Said human was once again darting his eyes around. His gaze swept over the dimly lit green, broken by the colours of fragrant flowerets. He had not heard Spock, too occupied by the feeling of being followed, but he once again saw no one in sight. Were his trained, keen senses betraying him? His head whipped around, when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. As soon as Spock had his attention, the barista let go. “I have noticed it too. Perhaps it is better we retire to our respective quarters.”

 

Honey-like eyes narrowed and the inner ends of brows almost met. “Do you know who or what it is?” Jim’s voice was a soft whisper, almost inaudible for himself, but the hint of a similar frown on the other’s face indicated it was heard anyway. Spock continued walking. He seemed unalarmed, so Jim played along. The human stayed close, trying hard to keep his posture from seeming as alarmed as he felt.

 

“I have my suspicions. If they are correct, you have nothing to fear, Jim.” The tone in Spock’s voice was, on the contrary, not as reassuring as his words were. There was something Spock was hiding. Jim was just not sure if he should press it or not.

 

“Then it must be you, who has something to fear”, the smart human replied. His eyes narrowed at his companion, watching every feature of the alien’s face to pick up the smallest signs. There was nothing, no confirmation nor disagreement. They went back to their quarters without another word.


	3. Juice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some drama.

The next day, the sound of Jim’s personal comm woke him at way too early in the morning. Another week and the _USS Farragut_ would dock for two days. In those two days, the young adult would have to get used to the new ship and the crew’s dynamic. At least his old captain was transferring along. A familiar face was always nice. Speaking of Stephen Garrovick, Jim had not seen the man since they docked at _Starbase 9_. It was not like they were friends, so it was perhaps natural for them to not spend their time here together. He was sure such an important man had better things to do than get to know a formerly bullied ensign.  

 

The engineer tried to fall back asleep, but the artificial light had already started filling his quarters, enveloping the cozy, but bland place in a soft orange hue. The dark circles painted the area below his eyes. Last night was great, but ended so ominously. ‘You have nothing to fear, Jim’, Spock had said and while it was meant to be reassuring, the human was not reassured. ‘But what about you, Spock?’ The blond human had pondered until he passed out. Now those worries filled his head again. After the recommended 15 minutes lying in silence only filled by his breathing and the mess in his head, Jim reluctantly left the warmth of his bed. The rest of the small room was warm too, but just not as comfortable as the warmth of a blanket brought. Well, it sure was a better place than his previous place underneath a staircase, in the midst of an engineering deck in the primary hull. During his time on the _USS Republic_ , his very first official assignment, Jim has felt like a modern Harry Potter, waiting for his Hogwarts letter that took its form of a transfer to a better ship with walls and a door, instead of a single curtain.

 

Now that time had come, he was roped up in a crush with a shady backstory. While Spock’s stories over dinner seemed genuine, Jim had grown suspicious after their walk in the gardens. The ensign was stuck between researching his romantic interest and not doing such a thing. He would not like it, if Spock had read into him. However, Jim felt like he had. In the end, he could not help it. A little later that morning, Jim found himself in the library, using a public console to look up his crush like a weird stalker. He had chosen a soundproof cubicle in the corner. Still, the walls were see-through and he really could not have the reputation of looking up superior officers, no matter his intentions. Therefore, he was awkwardly hunched over the console to hide his search from most eyes passing by.

 

His search brought him not much new information. After hours of looking, the newest information he got, was that Spock was half-human, but that did not have to be true, since it was no official record. The fact that the man was a prodigy was new, but completely expected. If Spock was not a straight-A student with outstanding other results, Jim would have been more surprised. With hands in his hair, he was looking at a Vulcan article, translated, but the words were still more complicated than they had to be. When the door opened, he looked up and blindly closed the tab in a hurry. A familiar blue face was smiling at him. “I thought it was you!” The female cheered after the door closed behind her. Her blue lips formed a warm smile that warmed Jim’s heart. Flora took a seat on the desk, looking even more looming from the angle.

 

“Flora, good to see you. Thank you for yesterday, the restaurant was perfect.” The blond male said, a bit rushed. His cheeks were a little rosy. He felt like a teenager who just closed a porn tab, before his mother came walking in to talk about homework. “I take it you want the uh… juice?” Quoting the Andorian caused her to laugh and nod.

 

“I want all the juice. What is he like? Does he like you too? Are you getting married?” With big, puppy-like eyes, the woman looked down at Jim, putting him in a somewhat awkward position. He was stumbling over his words, trying to describe Spock, before he choked on his breath at the last question.

 

“Slow down, big girl! We met just a few days ago. Now is no time to get married”, Jim exclaimed. He must have looked comical, waving his hands about with a red face. For someone watching from outside, without any sound, it must have looked like classic comedy. “Spock is… Special, in a lot of ways. I am sure he likes me, but maybe just as a friend. He is hard to read, but I am sure we are both not ready to get married. Perhaps, later, if our paths cross again and we are not on borrowed time, we could… be more.” Was he reading too many romantic novels? Perhaps. Was he being too honest with Flora? Definitely.

 

After his confession, the cheerful smile wavered for a second or at least Jim thought so. Big blue fingers took a hold of his hand, which had been resting on the table. “Jim, do you want to be more than friends with Spock?” Jim looked into her beautiful brown eyes. For a second they reminded him of Spock’s gorgeous ones. Speechless, he nodded. Shyness was hidden in the small movement of his head, but it was clear the answer was ‘yes’. He did not need to think about it, not for a second and that scared him a little. There was just so much going on that prevented them from having a healthy and stable relationship right now. Jim had a whole career in front of him and while Spock was just a rank above him, he was sure the Vulcan was in about the same situation as he was.

 

“I do, but there are things he is not telling me and I am afraid of what it is.” Flora let go of him and hopped off the desk. Her expression was odd. It was clear she was trying to stay cheerful, but behind that forced smile was either guilt, sadness or both hidden. The white brows furrowed together for a second, but it did not last long. It could have been just a muscle twitch.

 

“I have to go”, she muttered as she got a very old model communicator out of the pouch hanging from her belt. “Here is my frequency. Let’s stay in contact.” Jim got out his and made sure they had each other’s personal comm frequency. It just occurred to him that he had never gotten Spock’s nor asked for it. As the human looked at the alien, he noticed in the reflection in the glass behind her that his face was just as grim as hers. Before he could protest, she pulled him in her arms and gave him an almost bone-crushing hug. She was as strong as she looked, apparently. “It will be all right, Jim”, she whispered into his ear. The tone reminded him of the love of a mother, whom he suddenly missed a lot. He should call home, before going to the coffee shop.

 

**\-----------**

Apparently it was in the middle of the night in Iowa, but to his utter surprise, captain Garrovick called. Tomorrow they were to have lunch together to discuss a personal matter, as the captain called it. It did not sounded like a pressing matter though. From what the young Starfleet officer could tell, his superior hadn’t been tense or concerned. If anything, he had seemed excited.

 

Stepping back into his favourite place on _Starbase 9_ , Jim immediately noticed something was off. It was Spock’s shift, but said Vulcan, maybe half-human, was nowhere to be seen. Eyes scanned the place with unease. No way that Spock was playing hooky, so where was he? With a bad feeling, Jim sat down right in front of the counter at a small table. The cushion shaped to the form of his behind and the screen on the table lit up with the menu. The American did not even look at it. He knew what he wanted; it was not on the menu and the only person who was able to make it, was not here. Jim stood up, alarmed, when the door to the backroom opened. His shoulders fell when a familiar head with dark hair on top came through. The man did not know it, but a smile stretched over his face, when his eyes met those of the barista. “Jim, it is pleasant to see you once more.” Spock did not stop and fluidly started working the machine and mixing things into a thermos cup. “One would expect you to sleep more, now you are on a short leave. I suspect something troubles you enough to prevent you from resting sufficiently.”

 

Jim walked over to the counter, resting with his elbows on the fake marble. “Great observation, as usual, Mr Spock”, the human sighed, eyes not leaving the other for a second. His gaze was so fixated, mind racing with questions about last night. “Are you all right?” The blond man ended up asking, but as he had expected, he got a monotone confirmation in return. He needed a more direct question. “Spock, last night, something was wrong. I want to help you. Please, tell me what is going on.” Slender fingers put a hot drink in front of the distressed human. With pleading eyes, Jim looked up at the alien. Another ‘please’ left his lips in a soft, gentle plead.

 

Jim could see Spock was about to talk, but he knew better than to get his hopes up. “I require no aid, Jim. The situation does not put me in immediate danger.” Jim did not take the cup, refusing to until Spock would talk. The human raised a brow at his crush, changing tactics. The dark-haired male returned the small gesture, until they were both intensely staring into each other’s eyes, both raising a brow at the other. One was too stubborn to let the matter go, the other too stubborn to let the other in on the matter. In the end, Jim’s resolve lasted longer than Spock’s. No force could beat the stubbornness of a human male. Mankind had more than once gone under that stubbornness, but had made good use of it a couple of times too, like Jim right now in a stare down with a Vulcan. “Very well, someone is looking for me and I believe they have found me. I may have to leave soon with them, if I do not find an acceptable solution.”

 

That did not exactly help. It left Jim with more questions than he had to begin with. In shock, he could not contain a single one of them and the inquiries flew from his lips like a rapid train of thoughts railing off. “Who is looking for you? Why are they looking for you? Spock, what did you do? Are you danger? Where will they take you and what do they want from you? I…” Jim stopped himself when the man across the counter looked at him with irritation hidden below that neutral face.

 

“It does not concern you, Jim.” Those words were worse than any insult Jim had ever gotten thrown his way. Even Ben’s fury that broke a good friendship, even Jim’s own fury after Ben’s terrible attempt at vengeance was nothing compared to the bitter white anger boiling in the ensign’s heart, when Spock blatantly told him that he should not care about the well-being of the man he could see himself with for a very long time. “I suggest…”

 

“You what?” Jim gritted through his teeth. He was not the type to yell or scream, but he was very tempted at the moment. The proverbial steam rose from the pit of his burning heart to his head and left through every possible exit. “You suggest I leave, of course you do. Let me tell you something, Spock. I care about you now, which means you are stuck with me.” With unnecessary aggression, the blond human took the thermos cup off the counter and sat himself down on a chair at the nearest table, staring with stubborn eyes at the other man in the empty café. He threw his right leg over the knee of the other and leaned back in the comfy chair. “I have nothing to do, so if you really want me to go, you either speak up or have me physically removed.” Jim had naively expected his new approach to work, but by the time he had finished his coffee, it had long gone cold and Spock had ignored him since the moment Jim had tried this new tactic. The American was close to giving up when this plan C was not working out either. However, as his resolve was faltering, the door to the backroom suddenly opened and Spock was still behind the counter. Things got even more complicated when someone emerged from the small room, apparently done with hiding away and waiting for Jim to leave. Perhaps the ensign’s stubbornness gained him a little truth at last.


	4. Made by the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Garrovick is finally making an appearance.

“Hey Jim”, the familiar voice greeted with a small wave. Jim had to double check, but there was no way he could mistake the woman for anyone else. Flora emerged from the small room, her broad shoulders almost not fitting through the opening. The human could not form a decent question. While he had earlier an abundance of inquiries, he had none right now. What did he even want to ask? Which knowledge could soothe the prickling confusion?

 

His face must have shown his loss for words. Spock broke the awkward silence between them. “I believe it is appropriate for me to depart, so you can explain yourself to the ensign”, the stoic male said and left to the backroom, somehow not brushing against the Andorian upon his exit. Jim was left staring at Flora, eyes almost aggressively demanding an explanation.

 

“Don’t look at me like that. I am about to make things more complicated”, she huffed and reached into the pouch hanging from her belt. Out of it, she procured a small device that could fit in a fist and no one would guess there was something in it. She held it up like it had to mean anything to Jim, who looked at her like she was a magician about to pull a rabbit from a high hat. When she approached him and left the device on the counter, it really seemed like a magic trick was being performed. The moment the device left the close proximity of her body, her skin turned a soft pastel pink and the antennae turned into curly horns. The once white hair changed into black, dark as the abyss of space itself. Jim felt like those purple eyes could draw him in forever, making him stare at them for eternity and leading him to his eventual demise. “Jim!” Flora called out, pulling him out of his daze. She was enticing, beautiful in an odd way that forced him to stay focused or he would get captivated by her way too easy .

 

“What is going on?” The blond male exclaimed when he snapped out of it. He rose from his seat in order to not feel more smaller than he had to. Her brooding figure had stayed the same, broad shoulders, strong limbs and an impressive height. She sat him down on the table, sitting on the chair herself. Like this they were roughly at each other’s eye-level. She took his hands in hers, gentle like the way she looked at him. The skin felt like silk, soft and luxurious. Jim wondered what she was. He had not seen anything like her or even heard of it. One would think the cadets would be speaking of her species like they spoke of the Orion females.

 

“Jim…” The woman started out, her voice soft, petite. “Please promise me you let me finish, before getting angry with me. Or just don’t get angry with me; that is also an option.” She forced a smile on her face. It was clear she had been serious, when she said she was going to make things even more complicated.

 

“I am not made of sugar, Flora. Spill the beans”, the human replied. He had to restrain himself. Whatever was going on, he was sure he had been used. However, he could swear he and Spock shared some sort of connection. Did he make that up? Did Spock fake it? Somehow he was more worried about Spock’s true thoughts rather than whatever Flora was and why she had kept her true identity hidden.

 

“I was sent to retrieve Spock. It’s a long story, but my King wants to marry him and in our society, he can take any partner who is not in a committed relationship with another.” Jim tried very hard not to judge. It was an alien society, probably new to the federation since there was no record of such an alien race with roughly Flora’s appearance. Besides, he could very much bond with that king over their attraction to Spock. It was hard to not be charmed by the witty Vulcan. “I called up a small team when the reservation for Spock was used, but then I saw you two in the gardens and Jim, by the stars, I swear you two are made for each other.”

 

Jim needed to stop the alien woman there. “Wait, so it was you who was watching us last night?” She smiled, awkwardly with her arms raised. ‘Guilty as charged’, the pose said. Well that was good to know. If the threat was Flora, it might not be that bad. Not because Jim thought he could take on Flora. The last thing he wanted was to physically take on the woman about twice his size, who was also an alien of unknown capabilities. If Flora was the threat, then negotiation might be possible. “What is going to happen to Spock?” She once again raised her shoulder, shrugging with a heavy sigh.

 

“I didn’t lie, when I said I would do anything for a good love story. The King and Spock? It is kind of cute, but nothing compared to you and Spock, Jim.” The human did not know what exactly to say to that. His cheeks were pink as the alien spoke of him and Spock like the stars had made them for each other. “If you two elope, the King will leave it alone. Eloping is an act of romance, one highly admired in our rings.”

 

“Elope? Flora, Spock and I know each other for what? Three days? People don’t elope after three days unless they are in a Shakespearean play.” By now, the ensign had hopped off the table, throwing his hands about as he paced up and down in front of the table. Elope? This was not some romantic novel from centuries ago. It sounded romantic, but just thinking about the practicalities gave the human a headache that could expand past planets.

 

“We do not have to actually elope, but give the appearance of it.” Jim looked up to see that Spock had returned. The alien’s hands were full of thermos cups. No idea why he needed that many when it seemed that the café had little costumers. “If I am correct, you will depart on the _USS Farragut_ soon. I can send an encoded transmission for them to direct their course to this Starbase at once.” With swift movements, Spock neatly placed the cups on the shelves as he spoke promptly. The young human officer felt a headache coming up. This was getting more complicated than it had to be.

 

**\-----------**

 

Jim was fidgeting. He didn’t need to be told to know. His feet shuffled underneath the table over the perfectly clean floor. His fingers danced together on his lap. The human could swear there was slowly forming a dark spot on the back of his uniform. It was a miracle Garrovick had not made any comment on the tense air between them. Maybe he did not feel it as thick as Jim would claim it was. The younger male stayed quiet as he listened to the stories of captain Garrovick, occasionally humming and nodding to show he was keeping attention. Only after the food arrive, silence befell the table. Garrovick stopped talking to him after thanking the waiter. “Kirk, you know you are not in trouble, right?” The older man almost laughed before cutting a piece off his sandwich. Who ate a sandwich with cutlery? Captain Garrovick apparently. It made Jim feel like he was obligated to do so too.

 

“I did betray a friend, sir. It is not exactly something I am proud of. It also gained me a place on a better ship. Surely there must be some consequence for my actions.” It was not the entire reason why cold sweat was slowly covering his body, but what he said was the truth.

 

Garrovick scoffed, before placing his hefty hand on the table. “Listen here, Kirk, what you did may not be good in the eyes of your friend, but you deserved none of the treatment you got from the crew. You prioritised my ship over your personal ties. That takes courage and a strong sense of duty. Starfleet needs men like you to do the things no one else wants to carry the burden of. You have the potential to be captain. Along the way, many people will not like you, but your popularity is not important; the sake of your ship and its crew is.” Jim looked with big eyes at his captain. He was serious, that was clear. “Because I believe in your potential, I am promoting you to lieutenant.”

 

At last, Jim realised what this lunch was about. He was getting a promotion. A wide smile spread over his face. He felt like a heavy burden was taken off his shoulders. “Thank you so much, sir. I will not disappoint you”, he exclaimed a little too loudly, before he could think of a less generic response. Excitement flowed through his body, coursing through every vein and artery, filling him with newfound passion for what he did. The young Starfleet officer could see his superior officer let out an amused, but quiet laugh.

 

“I know you won’t, Kirk.” That thrust and certainty was so genuine, Jim almost did not know what to do with it. This was a really bad moment to request a favour, but he knew he was on borrowed time. While Garrovick had now said what he needed to say, it was Jim’s turn to break his news.

 

“I know this is a bad timing, sir, but I need a favour…” Jim didn’t say more as he suddenly felt a presence behind him. He turned his upper body around, sight meeting a pair of familiar pointy eyes and arched brows.

 

“Actually, captain Garrovick, it is me who must request a favour. Lieutenant Spock, _USS Enterprise_ under captain Pike’s command.” Garrovick reflexively stood up to offer a handshake, but he retracted the limb shortly after Spock did not seem to take it.

 

“What can I help you with?”


	5. What Can I Say, Mister Spock?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are set in motion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from the grave with a short and shitty chapter, but chapter 6 is already on the way!

Two days later, a whole repertoire of things had happened. Flora and Garrovick had, with help of captain Pike, created a plan and route that would place Spock back on the Enterprise within a week without raising suspicion. In the meantime, Spock had been mostly in the coffee shop to keep up his cover. Jim had been tasked with keeping an eye on Spock, so he had spent most of his days there too. Spock had started serving him several types of caffeine-free teas, apparently really concerned about Jim’s sleeping schedule and health. While the ensign admitted that he was grateful, he also insisted that his crush was being too uptight about it. 

“Hey, Jim”, Flora greeted as she took a sip from the drink Spock had made her. It took him a few tries, but he also created a drink for Flora. Her specie had peculiar tastes. Fortunately for her, Spock had little else to do. “We have a problem”, she stated as if it was no biggie, but the words pasted anxiety onto Jim’s bones. 

“Why are you so calm about it? What is the problem?” The engineer had lowered his voice as to not disturb Spock and the customer he was currently serving. Flora held her finger up, downing her drink like a human who had been stuck in the desert for several days. She let out a content sigh and placed the empty cup onto the table. 

“My people are arriving tonight and you are leaving tomorrow morning”, she whispered, “but I am not stressed, because all will be well, if Spock just sleeps at your quarters tonight.” Jim choked on his drink, starting a coughing fit that alarmed everyone in the shop. From his peripheral vision, Jim spotted Spock leaping over the counter with a cup in an incredibly smooth move that kept the liquid inside the cup. Next thing the young Starfleet officer was aware of, was Spock nearly karate chopping his back. It helped getting the hot drink from his throat, but he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

“Drink this.” The Vulcan shoved the cup in Jim’s hand. The younger male grabbed it so quickly, their hands brushed briefly; Jim didn’t notice. He realised it was water in the cup, when he was drinking it down in the same manner Flora just downed her drink. “Jim, are you all right?” Jim could hear the concern that most people would miss and nodded with a lopsided grin. 

When he looked up to Spock, he could see the man being a little green in the face. He thought he had figured Spock out by now, but right now he could not pinpoint the source of the man’s coloured visage. “What can I say, Mr Spock? You take my breath away.” Spock looked away, almost bashfully. He paused in his steps, before walking away. His steps were as methodical as ever, but Jim caught the little bit of hurry. Things had been strange between them. The ensign-soon-to-be-lieutenant could tell they both had an interest in each other, but he found it hard to tell if Spock felt the same kind of interest. It was not hard to tell that Spock had trouble dealing with emotions. Over time, Jim had learned that Spock was only half-Vulcan. It made a lot of sense. The little struggles, the almost toxic suppression of things he surely felt… Jim was pulled from his thoughts, when he heard Flora call out his name. He jerked his head towards her, taking a moment, before remembering why he was choking in the first place. “Is there any other way?”

Flora shook her head, a sympathetic smile shaping her lips. The way her lips curled told she wasn’t actually sorry about it though. Jim sighed. “Fine, but you are going to bring Spock the news,” he said, before standing up. He held his arms above his head, shirt rising to reveal the soft ridge of his belly. He let out a wrangled sound, as he stretched like that. Flora asked him where he was going, when he started walking out of the coffee shop. “You can handle things, right? I am going to prepare for my guest.” There were a few hours left, before the end of Spock’s shift. Jim wanted to head straight for his quarters, but ended up getting some scented candles on the way. After stressing for at least half an hour about the scent, he chose coffee out of all things. At least he was sure Spock found that particular smell bearable in the least. 

There was not much to clean up, given Jim’s few possessions and the little time he had resided in this chamber. However, he knew Spock was meticulous. Never before did Jim care about a perfectly made bed or a couch lined parallel to the wall. Crushing made one do curious things. As if it was another date, Jim showered, put on something nicer, used some extra deodorant. He was sure his quarters smelled quite natural with a hint of coffee, but he still feared Spock somehow would catch on the previous smell of Jim’s nightly sweating. 

There was a knock on the door. Jim had been reading. Spock had taken longer than the ensign would’ve thought. By the almost methodical sound of something colliding with the slide door, Jim could tell it was no one other than Spock. He adjusted the way he was lounging on the couch and told the computer to let his crush in. Spock looked almost comfortable in the grey robes he entered with. However, it was Spock. Even now the half-blood was a little uptight in the way he entered the room. 

“Good evening, Jim,” the dark-haired male greeted as he did always. Jim greeted him back, trying to look cool as he lied in a slightly uncomfortable position on the bed with a real book, paper and all. “Is that… a book? Why would you choose such an impractical mean to entertain yourself?” If Jim didn’t know Spock, he would feel mocked, but by now he knew that Spock was making a genuine inquiry. He was getting better at small talk.

“I like it. They smell funny. What can I say mister Spock? I am a vintage fanatic.” Spock seemed amused, even though he was not smiling. 

There was another knock on the door. Frowns appeared on both men’s faces. They had not expected anyone else. Jim unlocked the door and through it fell Flora, her hair a mess and purple stains all over her. “Jim, they are here, you got to go,” she panted. Jim crouched down next to her, helping her up. As he got closer, he noticed the purple swimming in her eyes and the small spots off pastel pink beneath the purple stains. 

“Flora, can I assume the purple substance is your blood?” Jim’s eyes widened as his gaze shifted from Flora to Spock and back to Flora. She nodded weakly. There was too much to think about. Spock needed to be transported to a safe place. Flora needed to be tended to. Captain Garrovick needed to be informed. 

“Spock, see what you can do for Flora,” the blond ensign ordered, running to his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Next to it lay his communicator. He tried to contact captain Garrovick, but seemed to get no connection to him, which was odd. Either he did not have his communicator on him or it was destroyed. “Spock, I cannot get in contact with the captain. I think we have to move.” 

Spock looked up from Flora. “Her injuries are severe, Jim. If we move her, the bleeding will increase. I am unaware of how much blood her specie can lose, before it is fatal.” 

“How can they do this? One of their own!” Jim started pacing, running scenarios through his head. 

“We do not take kindly to traitors. I knew the risks, Jim. Go now, I have long reached critical bleeding.” 

Jim shook his head. “If we cannot move her, we call someone in. Spock, stay with her. I will go to the hospital deck and get someone.” Jim was ready to run off, when he saw Flora’s Andorian disguise glitch again. “Flora, can that device you got make me look like Spock?” 

She got it out of her pouch with a nod. Spock blinked as it flashed in his face. She then handed it to Jim. “It is a little broken though.” Jim smiled and held her hand for a second, before taking the device. As he slid it into his pocket, he instantly appeared to be a specific Vulcan. Jim looked up to see Spock with raised brows and wide eyes. He took it worked then and slid out of the door. 

“If I get spotted, I make sure to lead them away from here.”


	6. Isn’t it wonderful how the soul cries out for a person before the brain does?

Jim mimicked Spock’s methodical steps, but anyone who knew Spock, could tell it was fake. He was in way too much of a hurry and his steps were uneven, but he thought that running would attract much more attention than his speed walking did. What could a Vulcan possibly be late for?

 

He had memorised the Starbase’s layout by now and made sure to take the crowded paths. The engineer knew they could be anywhere, posed as anyone. His eyes darted frantically around. He was almost there, when he noticed someone running his way. They appeared as a Tellarite, but never before had Jim seen a Tellarite run towards him with such intent. At least his disguise prevented them from shooting him or anything.

 

The last part of his journey to the hospital deck, he decided to sprint. He got just in time in the turbolift. Almost comically, the doors closed in the not-Tellarite’s face. Jim let out a sigh, before realising what he looked like. He quickly straightened his back and tried to maintain an expressionless face.

 

The doors opened and Jim had no time to think. He needed to act quickly, since he had no indication of Flora’s condition or time. “I am looking for a physician,” the pretend-Vulcan announced loudly, but as a statement. A middle-aged man with brown hair approached him, a semi-angry look on his face. Jim wanted to call it a scowl, but there was something unique about it, something that made semi-angry somehow more fitting.

 

“Spock? What are you doing?” Jim did not know this man, but he had no time. He was sure Flora’s people were closing on him as he was speaking. If he knew Spock, he probably would listen. Jim had yet to catch Spock being wrong for once.

 

“Doctor, I require you to be at quarter number SK-42T. Please do not question me and proceed immediately.” Jim hoped that was a good Spock impression. From his days drooling over the man, he should have picked up at least something.

 

From over the unknown doctor’s shoulder, Jim spotted another turbolift opening. “Do not wait for me. I will meet you there,” Jim added, before running away, after making sure he was spotted. He needed to buy Spock some time and divert them away.

 

\--------------

 

Jim was lying in a bush in the gardens. His breath was erratic, but he willed it to be as quiet as possible. There were a significant amount of people out and Jim had no idea who was real and who was not. His communicator started then buzzing in his pocket. Jim fished it out and whispered as he picked up. “Captain, we got a situation,” the ensign breathed out, peeking through the tiny leaves.

 

“I know. I have arranged a shuttle. If you and lieutenant Spock get on there, we will rendezvous tomorrow, after I take command of the _USS Farragut_.” It was a good solution, but that did not solve the Flora issue.

 

“Lieutenant Spock is currently in my quarters with Flora. She is suspected to be fatally injured. I am currently diverting her people, disguised as Spock.” Captain Garrovick remained quiet for a moment, before deciding he would contact Jim again, after checking up on Spock and Flora.

 

Jim cut the conversation short, feeling uneasy. He was ready to sprint to the turbolift, when he felt strong hands grabbing him by the arms. They pulled him out of the bushes and held him above the ground. Friendly smiles greeted him. Jim tried to keep up his façade, but he was unsure of how Spock would react in this situation. He opted for keeping an expressionless face and saying nothing. “The King loved the chase, Spock, but he demands you come back to be married to him.”

 

“I cannot,” Jim replied, not yet knowing what he would give as an excuse, other than that he did not love the king. Right that moment, the device in his pocket started acting up. His disguise glitched several times without Jim, knowing it. He watched as the pretend-human’s eyes widened. Suddenly she was patting him down, getting out both his communicator and the device Flora had given him. He knew now that he was back to looking like ordinary ensign James T. Kirk, the engineer. “Surprise,” he cheered, trying to think of another way to give Spock, Flora, and the doctor he sent their way more time. “If you want to know Spock’s location, you will have to… have to bring me a uh… an egg, yeah! An egg of a… of a pigeon that was born and grew up on Earth!” Jim nodded, puffing his chest out.

 

The not-human narrowed her eyes at him. Seemingly from nowhere, she got a knife-like object. It had the same shape, but did not seem sharp. Jim knew better than to risk it. He stayed quiet, wondering what was up, when she leaned closer with squinted eyes. The object was close to his heart. She kept it there, before speaking up. “You love him…” She suddenly whispered and put the knife-like object away. “Does he love you back?”

 

Jim’s breath hitched. What kind of knife was that? Digging out emotions you are not aware of yourself? What a treat would Spock be with a device like that. “Does it matter? Are you really going to separate us?” He tried to get sympathy, but the two aliens holding him seemed to never tire. The blond engineer missed feeling ground under his feet.

 

“Only if he does not return your feelings.” She was quiet for a moment, before smiling the same knowing smile as Flora always did. “You are not aware of your own feelings yet, are you?” She signalled the others to lower him, before getting close and putting a hand on Jim’s chest. Jim looked at her with both intrigue and confusion. “Isn’t it wonderful how the soul cries out for a person before the brain does?”

 

Jim did not know how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet. She removed her hand and smiled friendly, before looking at the other two. “Come on, I know where Spock is.” Jim blinked at her. He had questions, so many, but no time to ask. They put him down and left in a breeze. His communicator and disguise device stayed with them.

 

\--------------

 

Jim was out of breath again as he raced to his quarters. He somehow believed he could be there earlier than them. When he arrived, he opened the door to find captain Garrovick, Flora and the doctor he had sent here. “Where is Spock?” He inquired as a greeting replacement. His eyes drifted to the bed, where Flora lied, weak, but alive.

 

“So you are the punk that sent me here. Listen, I ain’t never seen an alien like her! How am I supposed to treat her! I’m a doctor not a…” Captain Garrovick cut the brunet off with just a single hand-gesture.

 

“Spock went looking for you, Kirk. He insisted that you could use his help better than we. I could not oppose him.”

“Does he have his communicator on him?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Could I use yours to contact him?”

 

Captain Garrovick stared him down for a moment with a hint of disbelief in his expression, before taking his communicator off the nightstand. “What happened to yours?”

 

Jim took the device with a sheepish look. “They took it. They believe to know Spock’s location, though I have not told them.”

 

Jim heard Flora say something, but before he could request a repetition of the weakly spoken words, Spock responded. “Captain, right now is an unfortunate moment,” the hybrid whispered over the line.

 

“It is Jim, Spock. They have my communicator. Where are you? I will be there right away.” Jim heard Spock mention the coffee shop, but little else as voices were heard in the background and Spock cut off the communication. Jim knew that Spock would only do that if speaking could give away his position. “Keep her alive,” the ensign yelled, before sprinting out of the room. His lungs were begging him to stop, but he rushed to the staff turbolift. He ran past an engineer that had been waiting and let the doors close before her, yelling an apology. He was antsy as he caught his breath in the rapidly moving compartment.

 

He wanted to collapse, but found his legs going on their own as soon as the doors opened once again. Jim ran into multiple people. When he arrived at the coffeeshop, he saw it was shut down. It explained why no security officers were flooding the area. He tried the door, but could not even look inside. The glass was darkened. Jim gave it a frustrated kick, as if that would open it. He took a moment to catch his breath and think. Merely seconds later he was running again, trying to find another entrance. He squeezed himself between the coffee shop and the adjunct lounge, until he was met with Spock coming from the opposite side. “Jim, I suggest we run post haste.”

 

Jim nodded and tried to walk backwards, but found himself pretty stuck. Before he could announce the unfortunate situation, he felt Spock’s hands on his chest, pushing him backwards with incredible force. His body stayed stuck for a moment longer, before suddenly getting loose. Jim yelped as he fell backwards. His back hit the hard ground and he somehow managed kept his head high enough to prevent getting a mild concussion. When he opened his eyes, he was met with brown ones looking down into his. A flush creeped up from where Spock’s hands were on his chest to his face. The man looked not as composed as he usually was. What a change. His eyes were wide and a bit of green painted the pointy tips of his ears. Jim was sure Spock could feel his heart hammering away. He already had thought of the alien as good-looking, but this close, he was breath-taking.   

 

“Spock I uh…” He did not get to finish. A shadow fell over them. Jim craned his neck to see a familiar not-human person leaning over them. He sighed, a feeling of déjà vu washing over him, when that all-knowing smile spread over pale lips. 


End file.
